“Why,” answered Cornelius, “since I have been here, I have fallen in with a very sensible man, and a man of remarkably sound political opinions. He has a great reputation, he is called Polemo, and is one of the professors at the Mercury. He seems to me to go to the root of these subjects, and I’m surprised how well we agreed. He’s a Greek, as well as this young gentleman’s sister. I should recommend him to go to Polemo; if any one could disabuse her mind, it is he.”

“True, true,” cried Aristo, starting up, “but, no, you can do it better; you have power with the government. The Proconsul will listen to you. The magistrates here are afraid of him; they don’t wish to touch the poor girl, not they. But there’s such a noise everywhere, and so much ill blood, and so many spies and informers, and so much mistrust—but why should it come upon Callista? Why should she be a sacrifice? But you’d oblige the Duumvirs as much as me in getting her out of the scrape. But what good would it do, if they took her dear life? Only get us the respite of a month; the delusion would vanish in a month. Get two months, if you can; or as long as you can, you know. Perhaps they would let us steal out of the country, and no one the wiser; and no harm to any one. It was a bad job our coming here.”

“We know nothing at Rome of feelings and intentions, and motives and distinctions,” said Cornelius; “and we know nothing of understandings, connivances, and evasions. We go by facts; Rome goes by facts. The question is, What is the fact? Does she burn incense, or does she not? Does she worship the ass, or does she not? However, we’ll see what can be done.” And so he went on, informing the pair of mourners that, as far as his influence extended, he would do something in behalf both of Agellius and Callista.

CHAPTER XXVII.
AM I A CHRISTIAN?